Trolls have a longstanding animosity for goats--"Who's that trip-tapping across my bridge!?"--and this led me to think that perhaps trolls are related to goats, since it seems a lot more plausible to me that your relatives would make you insane than some random hooved mammal, however ecologically destructive it might be. What if trolls evolved from goats? Or, no, better yet, what if goats evolved from trolls? Or were domesticated from trolls by human shepherds? And the trolls despise their domesticated cousins as a disgrace to the once-proud troll race, (much as I assume wolves would despise Chihuahuas if they ever gave them much thought) and eat them at every opportunity.
Ursula VernonStichwörter: humor family relations
Siblings: children of the same parents, each of whom is perfectly normal until they get together.
Sam LevensonStichwörter: humor family relationships
I'm tired of being set upon by crazed Christians one minute and unbridled libertines the next. Girls, I'm going camping.
Bailey WhiteStichwörter: family camping libertines
Evil itself may be relentless. I will grant you that, but love is relentless too. Friendship is a relentless force. Family is a relentless force. Faith is relentless force. The human spirit is relentless, and the human heart outlasts - and can defeat - even the most relentless force of all, which is time.
Dean KoontzStichwörter: family force relentless human-spirt
So, have a little fun. Soon enough you'll be dead and burning in Hell with the rest of your family.
George CarlinStichwörter: humor family death hell fun
My Miracle, living through a Traumatic brain Injury
Rodney BarnesStichwörter: life friends love family college work relationships jesus news accident subdural-hematoma
Leah: I want those gubs Mommy.
Kate: They're not 'gubs' they're 'gloves'
Aaden and Leah try and say gloves
Leah: Gloves!
Kate: Good job!
Aaden: Gubs!
Kate: No
Stichwörter: family children motherhood parenting mothers reality-tv gloves
Following her instructions, I joined her in the chopping and mixing. The magical smell of pickling spices wound around us and it wasn't long before we were in another world. I was suddenly immersed in the hand-written recipes Mother resurrected from the back of the Hoosier cabinet--in the cheesecloth filled with mustard seed and pungent dill. As we followed the recipes her mother had followed and her mother before that, we talked--as the afternoon wore on I was listening to preserve the stories in my mind. 'I can remember watching my grandmother and mother rushing around this same old kitchen, putting up all kinds of vegetables--their own hand-sown, hand-picked crops--for the winter. My grandmother would tell her stories about growing up right here, on this piece of land--some were hilarious and some were tragic.' Pots still steamed on the stove, but Mother's attention seemed directed backwards as she began to speak about the past. She spoke with a slow cadence, a rhythm punctuated (or maybe inspired) by the natural symphony around us.
Leslie GoetschWhile we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.
Angela SchwindtStichwörter: life family children
They were talking more distantly than if they were strangers who had just met, for if they had been he would have been interested in her just because of that, and curious, but their common past was a wall of indifference between them. Kitty knew too well that she had done nothing to beget her father's affection, he had never counted in the house and had been taken for granted, the bread-winner who was a little despised because he could provide no more luxuriously for his family; but she had taken for granted that he loved her just because he was her father, and it was a shock to discover that his heart was empty of feeling for her. She had known that they were all bored by him, but it had never occurred to her that he was equally bored by them. He was as ever kind and subdued, but the sad perspicacity which she had learnt in suffering suggested to her that, though he probably never acknowledged it to himself and never would, in his heart he disliked her.
W. Somerset MaughamStichwörter: love family parents daughters fathers
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